


The Flames Within

by Welsper



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Magic, Prophecy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23648212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsper/pseuds/Welsper
Summary: If Dragonstone burned, would it awaken those beasts and earn him their favor, earn him the power to drive back the darkness?What kind of sacrifice did they ask of Stannis and was he willing to give it?
Relationships: Stannis Baratheon/Davos Seaworth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28
Collections: What Fen Do (Instead of Going Outside), When Death Loves Flamingos





	The Flames Within

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).



It was as if the coldness had seeped into his very bones and made a home there. But he was used to the chill from the howling winds on Dragonstone, where it tore at drenched skin as if to rip it apart like the dragons of old did with flesh and bones and stone. Like the dragons of this era that must roam the skies above old and new Valyria, where that Targaryen girl had made her home with a fallen knight at her side.

It must be warm there, air scorched with the breath of beasts and the valor of one who would do right by her chosen people. Perhaps they were alike in such things, him and that girl. Both not born to rule, and yet they must and would, for such was their burden and their duty.

“And yours is a greater duty than all, Stannis Baratheon,” Melisandre’s voice sounded from behind him.

“Reading my thoughts now, witch?”

“I only see the troubles on your face, in your eyes, in your heart.”

“And you seek to give me counsel for these troubles? Mere words will help no longer, not with an army of the dead and their commanders sweeping the lands and adding more to their ranks with every moment that passes.”

“You will prevail against them, as destiny foretells. Azor Ahai you are, and you will defend the realm and the world with your sword of flames,” Melisandre said, as she often did and Stannis wondered if she still meant it. If she had ever meant it, and if he was as mad as her for every believing her.

“I’ve you’ve got that flaming sword laying around somewhere witch, now would be the time,” Davos scoffed from where he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed above his chest. His eyes were narrowed at Melisandre. Stannis would have smiled at him, were he a smiling man. His loyal onion knight, always there to speak his mind, when finer bred lords and ladies would not. Stannis wished he could sometimes. Wished he had the means of speaking his heart to Davos. Tell him how he felt. Renly would probably know how, but he was not Renly.

“As you can see, we’ve got no dragons of our own here to light the wandering dead aflame, witch! The ones that were born defend Valyria and only her.”

“There are others in this world, others that would soar the skies of Westeros when hers will not. The flames do not lie to me, Ser Davos,” Melisandre hissed and for a moment there was a crackle in the air between Davos and her and before Stannis could raise his voice, Renly stepped forward with his arms raised.

“This is not the time to be fighting among ourselves, friends,” he said, his voice firm and still there was laughter in it, even now.

Stannis could see it these days, why the people had chosen to follow him, even though it was not his right, not his path in life. Why they would follow one upsurper king rather than Stannis himself, why a warm smile might give comfort in these times. Stannis was glad for it, too. Was glad for Renly by his side, after they had put aside their war, the war that didn’t matter, like none of the wars between men mattered when forces beyond their understanding marched on them and brought with them the promise of eternal winter, one that came but never went.

“Worry not, brother,” Renly said and clasped Stannis’ shoulder with a strong hand. “I know you can bring the dawn, I know you can end this dreadful night and bring us a summer that never ends.” He smiled. “I do so look forward to the endless supplies of peaches, you know? So rather than be dreadful to one another when we should be as one, let us find this flaming sword. Whatever it may be, sword, dragon, the sun.”

“You said there were others?” Stannis asked and Melisandre nodded.

“Stone they may be now, but so were hers. There is magic all around us, we must only seize it,” she said and flames danced on her hands. Sometimes, she looked as surprised at is as everyone else did. She was a hard woman to know, if she was a woman and not something else entirely. But Stannis could not doubt her now, could not doubt that prophecy they all clung to, they all believed in for there was nothing else to believe in now.

“Seizing dragon magic has gotten more people into the grave than helped them,” Stannis said. “You expect me to save the realm when I am burned to ashes?”

“I expect you to do your duty,” Melisandre said and Stannis wondered how fire could sound cold, but it did. Her eyes lingered on Davos. “All of you.”

* * *

“She’s not coming?” Davos held his torch to light the path before them as he looked over his shoulder. “I’ve got no mind for magic, Your Grace, perhaps she should be the one to accompany you down here. I suppose I could make an omelet, but I would not know how to rouse a dragon from its egg.”

“So do little people in this world, Ser Davos.” Stannis said and now there was a coldness in his heart that he was not used to, could never be, did not want to be.

Azor Ahai had a wife. One he loved so dearly, and still he paid for his sword with her life.

Stannis had no wife, he only had this knight who had come into his life that one night with his sailboat full of onions. Who had smuggled his way past the siege and into Stannis’ heart. What a foolish man he was. Tales of love and knights who vowed their service and their hearts, that was the life of kings in children’s books, the ones Renly used to love and even live.

And yet here he was, walking deeper into the belly of the beast that was Dragonstone with a man he loved by his side and a man he dreaded he would have to sacrifice. Davos would not deny him, for he was loyal and good and despite his past, he was a kind man who longed to see a peaceful world. He would not deny him, if Stannis told him to lay down his life for the good of the realm.

 _Go seek out your destiny, the one you share_ , Melisandre had told him and Stannis knew he ought to, but his resolve was wavering. If only he had never come that night, if only Davos was still out there, sailing the seas in that ship of his. Still, the dead cared not for silly wishes, hopeless dreams, they marched forward and Stannis had to do his duty.

“Did you know there were dragons down here, Your Grace?”

“There were rumors, albeit nothing more than children’s tales and whisperings of serving maids trying to ease the dread of this castle,” Stannis said as they continued into that darkness. When the light of their torches cast itself over the statues, the dragons’ eyes almost looked alive. He nodded over to one and Davos followed his gaze.

“Supposedly those were real dragons, only waiting to be reborn when their masters wished them to. Nonsense, if you ask me,” Stannis said.

“Yet here you are, Your Grace. You must have hope still,” Davos said and there was a warm smile on his face. Stannis looked away, his heart beating a little faster for it.

“What I have is desperation, Ser Davos. I must look a fool to you and anyone, wandering around in the darkness hoping to find a shield against the cold that envelops the land.”

“You don’t,” Davos said quietly.

Stannis said nothing and kept walking. And there was this feeling, this sense of both dread and hope in his mind again, that thing he felt when he looked into Melisandre’s flames. Something he could not describe, but knew within his heart. Heat spread through him, though it was bitterly cold down here and he was driven forward, as if by instinct.

Where was this? Were they still on Dragonstone? He knew this castle. And yet, what was before him was something so odd, so strange, so unknown.

And yet, it felt right. It reached out to him, called to him, yearned for something within him Stannis had never felt so strongly before.

Cradled within the embrace of a stone dragon, there laid two eggs before him. Stannis could feel hearts beat within them, tiny and gigantic and like nothing he had ever felt before.

“Seven hells,” Davos cursed beneath his breath. “Your Grace, these…”

“Dragon eggs.”

“Lightbringer,” Davos said softly.

“Aye,” Stannis said and swallowed. What was he supposed to do now? He reached out for the eggs, and his fingers twitched when he felt them warm beneath his hands. How would he wake them? With fire, like that girl across the seas had? If Dragonstone burned, would it awaken those beasts and earn him their favor, earn him the power to drive back the darkness?

What kind of sacrifice did they ask of Stannis and was he willing to give it?

Would he wake them by taking up his sword and driving it through Davos and offering his blood?

“I’d always thought I’d drown at sea rather than this,” Davos spoke up and Stannis grit his teeth.

“Who said you would die?”

“This is what she sent me down here with you, didn’t she? She said… gods be good, all this prophecy is a lot for one simple smuggler,” Davos said.

“A knight,” Stannis corrected him. Davos had long paid for his crimes, Stannis had seen to that.

“And that. A soulbond, she said, to bring forth the dawn. Now I’ve only learned how to read recently, but Nissa Nissa became part of Lightbringer, didn’t she?”

Stannis closed his eyes. He knew the tale, of course he did. He didn’t want to hear it.

“I am not your husband, Your Grace, only your Hand, but… do you believe in this, Your Grace? Do you believe that by killing me, you will fulfill that destiny?” There was a pain in Davos voice and Stannis wished he could hold him. Wished he could reach out.

Wished so much that his hand rose and cupped Davos’s cheek, warm and his beard soft beneath his touch. His arm was stiff and likely this was no good touch at all, but he felt Davos lean into it.

“She did not say to kill you, Ser Davos,” Stannis said and he knew there was a hope in his voice. Perhaps it was futile. Perhaps not.

“And the gods know Melisandre enjoys the killings,” Davos said.

“So she does.” Stannis looked over to the eggs and his gaze softened. “There are two of them. I can hardly fly both, can I, Ser Davos?”

“I’ve got no Targaryen blood, my lord. I’ve got no blood of anything.”

“Then killing you would do no good either, if you cannot fly one of those children for me, would it?” One of them drew closer and Stannis could not tell which one of them it was.

“There are other ways to bond,” Davos muttered and his lips upon Stannis were warm. He shuddered.

“Show your king,” Stannis breathed and Davos did.

The heat of their love burned within them, spread into the air and dragons unfolded their wings as Stannis drew Davos into him and let his fire scorch his skin.

* * *

The sun rose high in the sky, bathing the frozen lands in gentle light, so long lost.

It was over. They had won. Winter had gone and the long night gave way to day at last.

Their dragons roared in the sky above them and Davos wrapped him into his arms and the last of the cold vanished from within Stannis.


End file.
